


Your Not-So-Smallness In The Universe

by helens78



Series: Not-So-Smallness [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Aliens Make Them Do It, Bondage, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-21
Updated: 2007-05-21
Packaged: 2017-10-05 20:12:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Rodney have to perform an alien sex ritual for a new group of friends.  It could be worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Not-So-Smallness In The Universe

"Wait, wait. You want us to _what_?" Rodney asked.

Divin Profis, the leader of the Nulstrian colony on P4X-339, cleared his throat. "It is a simple thing, Dr. McKay. We only ask that all who wish to do business with Nulstria show their respect to our gods..."

"Yes, yes, but you want us to _what_? Specifically?"

"You must decide between yourselves which of you is to sit in the Chair of Abjection," Profis said, nodding at the chair in the center of the room, "and which of you is to kneel and perform the ritual of fellation--"

"So you want us to--"

"McKay." John grabbed Rodney by the shoulder and nodded at Profis. "We need a couple minutes in private to decide."

"Of course. I will leave you alone. Please ring the bell there--" Profis pointed at a rope hanging near the door-- "when you have reached a decision and are ready for the ritual to begin." Profis bowed once from the waist and hurried out of the room.

"This is not happening," Rodney said, groaning as he looked at the chair. John thought it looked like one of those uncomfortable chairs rich people had in their big fancy dining rooms, something with a $6000 designer price tag that no one actually intended to sit in. All straight lines, no cushioning... well, there was one cushion, more of a pillow, really, but it was in front of the chair. _...which of you is to kneel and perform the ritual of fellation. Guess it's better than kneeling on the floor._

The chair might not have had cushions, but it did have a half-dozen leather straps on it. Okay, so maybe not a fancy-dinner kind of chair. "What the hell are all those straps for?" Rodney was asking, so apparently he'd noticed them, too.

"You want to sit down and see if we can figure out where they go?"

The look Rodney gave him dropped the temperature in the room by about ten degrees. "No, thank you, I really don't do very well at--I mean, this is not the kind of thing I can--where the hell are Teyla and Ronon? Why isn't someone else getting called on to do this?"

"Maybe you only need to do it once."

"Which covers Teyla, but Ronon--"

"Maybe they flipped a coin. How the hell would I know?"

Rodney sighed. "So. Not that we've never run into an awkward situation where we can't afford to offend somebody, but..."

"But nobody's ever asked us to suck each other off, either. Yeah, I get why this is giving you some trouble, but I get the impression we're not leaving this room until one of us..." John gestured at the chair. "So, uh. What do you want to do?"

"I take it 'blow them up and get the hell out of here' isn't an option."

John rolled his eyes. "Rodney--"

"Okay, okay, so, look, you sit in the chair."

"No problem, I can--what?" John asked. He'd been eyeing the pillow and wondering how his knees were going to take it. "What, you don't want to--"

"This goes no further than this room," Rodney said, setting his jaw, "but I have serious doubts about my ability to perform as required when tied down and given an audience full of _priests_."

John wasn't sure, but he thought there was a veiled insult in all that. "So, what, you look at me and think 'perverted sex freak who gets off on being tied up and sucked off in front of religious officials'? Because--"

"No no no, Jesus, would you stop already," Rodney said, shaking his head. "It's not that, I just think you... well, I mean, you're..." Rodney threw his hands up. "You're military. It's a taking-orders kind of thing. I figure it's Pavlovian."

"I've never been ordered to do _this_ before," John snapped, then sighed. This wasn't getting them anywhere, and time was ticking away. "Okay, all right, look, let's stop arguing about it and get this over with."

"Yeah. Okay. So I guess we call them back in--" Rodney went over to the bellpull and gave it a yank. John sighed, again, and looked at the chair. Now that he was taking a closer look at it, he was starting to wonder about those straps, too. They were each about two inches thick and made of some sort of white leather. Two at the front feet of the chair--okay, that made sense, they were probably for his feet. But then there was the one at the center back--were they going to choke him while he was getting this compulsory blowjob?--and six going down the back of the chair, three on each side.

He started taking off his tac vest, and Rodney raised his eyebrows. "You don't think they're going to make us both strip, do you?"

"No, but I think they're gonna want my arms in those straps." John nodded at the chair. "And I don't think they'll fit over my jacket."

"Right." Rodney wiped his palms on his thighs. "Okay, right. God, where the hell are they? We're doing their stupid ritual, the least they could do is show up."

John had just enough time to strip down to his t-shirt and head over to the chair before Profis and the rest of the clerics came in. He sure as hell wasn't going to sit in it before he was told to; for all he knew, that'd insult the gods. The Nulstrians all seemed happy enough, though, and Profis nodded to the cleric wearing the largest hat. At least it didn't look like a pope hat. John didn't think he could do this with a straight face if all the clerics were Nulstrian versions of the Pope.

"You are the one who will sit in the Chair of Abjection?" Big Hat Cleric asked. John nodded, and they pulled him into the chair, positioning his arms so they were hanging at his sides, right next to the straps. There'd be one to go around his biceps, one around his forearms, one around his wrists. The strap at the center back of the chair got moved up so it was at neck level, and the straps at John's ankles were clear enough. John squirmed and looked at Rodney, who was trying to look at anything else.

"You will need to fasten him to the chair," another one of the clerics told Rodney, prodding him gently. Rodney's mouth gaped open, and he looked at John. John shrugged.

"Uh... is there an order they go in?" Rodney asked.

Big Hat Cleric smiled. "Yes. Start with the collar--" Rodney made a choking noise, and the cleric gave him a comforting pat on the arm. "It is not so difficult. Just be certain he can breathe, that he may give thanks to the gods for reminding him of his smallness in the universe."

John frowned, and Rodney looked down at his crotch. _Not that small_, John thought, and then, _what are you talking about? Just sit here and shut up and don't think about anything._

But when Rodney fastened the collar around his neck, John reached for the chair legs, getting a hard grip on them. This wasn't going to be as easy as he'd thought.

Rodney fastened the straps on John's biceps next, then the ones on his forearms and the ones on his wrists. Finally, it was back around in front of him, where Rodney was politely ordered to kneel, and he fastened the straps around John's ankles, too. And that was that. John was trussed up like a turkey and about to get his first blowjob in six years.

"Sorry if my hands are a little cold," Rodney muttered, unbuckling John's belt and unzipping his fly. John lifted his hips up just a little, trying to make it easier, and Rodney glanced up at him, eyebrows lifted. John shook his head as best he could--not so easy now that he had the collar on--and took a deep breath. Rodney went back to what he was doing, reaching in through John's fly and--

"Jesus!" John yelped, jerking in the straps. "Your hands really _are_ cold--"

"Shut up and start feeling humble," Rodney snapped back. "The gods are watching, remember?"

_Oh, I'm gonna get you for that_, John thought. Rodney was squeezing his dick now--fuck, it was the first time in six years anybody but him had done that, either--and despite the fact that Rodney's hands were like ice, John was getting hard in a hurry. He glanced around at the clerics, all of whom had solemn looks on their faces. If any of them were getting off on this, the robes were covering it. He looked back down at Rodney, who'd gotten a nice fast rhythm going. It felt weird as hell--there was no getting around how weird it was to be strapped down while his teammate jerked him off--but it was obvious now that he could do this.

"I'm going to, ah, proceed with the ritual now," Rodney said, more for John's benefit, John figured, than for the clerics. "Smallness of the universe, my ass," he muttered under his breath, and he licked his lips before bending his head down and sucking the head of John's dick into his mouth.

John's head tilted back, and he gritted his teeth to keep from making any noise. It'd been so damn long--six years, and now it had to be Rodney? Regardless, it felt really fucking good. Rodney's mouth was hot, wet, his lips were tight--

\--he knew what he was doing. John tried to look down at him, but all he could see was the top of Rodney's head, bobbing up and down in John's lap.

_Oh, fuck. Fuck, he's actually good at this._

Rodney was moving a little faster now, deeper, and either he was getting off on it, too, or he was just doing his best to please the gods. Considering as John was pretty sure Rodney was an atheist, it sort of had to be the former, and how the hell was he going to work with Rodney now? How was he going to look at that stupid crooked smile and not think _I've gotta have that on my dick, right now_?

John was moving his hips up, or trying, and Rodney started taking even more in, not quite all the way but close enough to it, and he was making this wet little slurping sounds and--there was no way he was moaning, it was probably John, or maybe one of the clerics, because no, Rodney could not be getting off on this _that_ much. Rodney liked cock? Rodney liked cock enough to give John one of the best blowjobs he'd ever had?

Okay, maybe the six-year cold streak was leaving John a little biased.

John let out a small groan and tried to look down at Rodney. He wondered if there was any good way to warn him, and whether the clerics would want his "humility" shot all over the room--well, onto Rodney's face, at least--and then quickly realized that cleaning it up would be a lot worse than just having had to _do_ all this. _Sorry, Rodney. Ordinarily you'd get some warning--_

He closed his eyes, pushed his hips up as much as he could, and came down Rodney's throat with a soft growl. Rodney didn't jerk back or choke or anything of the kind; he just rubbed his tongue hard against the underside of John's dick--fuck, that felt really good--and swallowed, and swallowed, and before John knew it, his dick was finished jerking and he was getting his vision back. Rodney sat up and drew the back of his hand across his mouth, licking his lips.

_Well, I guess I've got jerk-off material for the rest of the month._

"The ritual is complete. You may release him from the chair, and negotiations will begin when the two of you are ready." Profis nodded at the rest of the clerics, who left the room in a swirl of robes and ugly hats. "I will leave the two of you alone to contemplate the gods for a time."

As soon as Profis was gone, Rodney started undoing John's straps. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"My right hand's asleep. Other than that, I'm fine."

"Shit." Rodney got John's right hand unfastened and rubbed at his palm for a few seconds. "I got it too tight, didn't I? I was never any good at--" He stopped abruptly, both talking and rubbing, and went back to the rest of John's straps in silence.

There was no way in hell John was going to follow up on that, not now, not while he was still sitting in this goddamned chair with his dick hanging out of his pants. As soon as both his arms were free, he fixed that part, zipping up his fly and buckling his belt again, and he shoved himself out of the chair, taking a few steps away from it.

"Look, I just--I'm sorry," Rodney said quietly. "I'm really sorry."

John just nodded. "I've contemplated the gods plenty for one day," he said. "Pull that damn rope and let's get these negotiations finished."

_-end-_


End file.
